


Blue-Eyed Stranger

by galluslafayetti



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All I Wanna Do Is Make Love to You, Based on a Heart song, F/M, Female Dean Winchester, Genderswap, Gonna stop tagging now, I wrote this at two AM, Infidelity, Sorry Not Sorry, i don't know?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galluslafayetti/pseuds/galluslafayetti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna watched him for a moment, the guilt in her stomach wrapping itself in knots and chains, then called after him, “Hey, I can give you a ride to the hotel, if you want. It’s about ten miles up the road.”<br/>He turned back to stare at her for a few seconds, then nodded. “If it isn’t a bother, then yes, I’d be very appreciative of a lift.” He smiled and the road quivered beneath her feet. The guilt morphed into something else for a heartbeat, biting harder and sharper than she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue-Eyed Stranger

Rain poured down that night, cold and relentless. The road was dark and wet and layered with pine needles and leaves. The steady sound of rain against asphalt was broken by the snarl of an engine. A black car careened around a bend in the road, headlights throwing reflections of puddles into the treetops. The radio was on, blasting rock and roll loud enough to wake the dead.

Deanna was singing along softly to Back in Black, fingers tapping against the Impala’s steering wheel, a half-smile gracing her features. Miles of road lay ahead of her that Saturday night, twists and turns to whip around, lonely stretches of highway boxed in by fields and forests waiting to be sped past, and out of the way roadhouses and hotels hidden away in the curves of the road, easy to find if you knew where to look, waiting to be visited.

Guilt had settled deep in her stomach early that evening, cold and unpleasant. She imagined Michael at home, unaware and comfortable, sunk into the couch watching TV, or reading a book, or brooding over work with a late-night cup of coffee. She had told him she was going on a girl’s night out with Charlie and Jo, and she might be staying the night with one of them if she drank a lot. He waved her out the door with a smile and pet name. He never suspected otherwise, not that night, or the weekend before, or the one before that, even when she didn’t return until late morning on some Sundays.

He never needed to know. After so many months- years, now- of trying and failing, they had just assumed the worst; but they never confirmed it with a doctor, and that was key. When one of these Saturdays ended with a plus sign on the pee-stick, it would be simple good luck. A miracle, even. Just a good twist of fate, the right timing, hell, people could call it God’s will if that’s what they wanted to think-

She stomped on the brake pedal, and the car came to a halt mere inches before the figure that stood in the road. She threw on the parking brake and threw open the door.

“What the hell, man?” she shouted at the figure who stood in the road. His eyes were wide and blue, and he paused before he spoke, his voice deep like gravel.

“I’m sorry. My car malfunctioned.” He motioned to a big silvery sedan a few yards behind him, sopping wet trenchcoat flapping with the motion. “Do you by chance know where the nearest automobile repair shop is?”

Deanna snorted. “Bobby’s place, but he closed up hours ago. It’s about two miles back that way, but you’re gonna have to wait til morning.”

The man’s expression went from surprised to irritated. “Of course. Well. Thank you anyways.” He turned away and began to trudge back to the sedan.

Deanna watched him for a moment, the guilt in her stomach wrapping itself in knots and chains, then called after him, “Hey, I can give you a ride to the hotel, if you want. It’s about ten miles up the road.”

He turned back to stare at her for a few seconds, then nodded. “If it isn’t a bother, then yes, I’d be very appreciative of a lift.” He smiled and the road quivered beneath her feet. The guilt morphed into something else for a heartbeat, biting harder and sharper than she expected.

She nodded and motioned to the passenger door of the Impala before climbing back into the car. The radio was still up to full volume, so she twisted the knob down to a reasonable level of noise. The door creaked open and stranger slid into the seat beside her moments later.

He was handsome, prettier than Michael even; and that thought sent another bolt of remorse through her gut, but she shrugged it off with a smile. “I’m Deanna. Where're you from?”

“Uh, Pontiac, Illinois. I’m on my way to Utah. A business trip.”

“Well, kind of a crappy start to a long drive, but Bobby works quick. You’ll probably be on your way before lunch tomorrow.”

“Hopefully, yes.”

She pulled back onto the road, and the rest of the drive was silent except for the hum of the road beneath their tires and the static-y classic rock that filtered through the old speakers.

When they arrived at the old rickety affair that was the local hotel, Deanna parked in a spot off to the side of the lot. “So, stranger,” she began, twisting to smile at him. He looked at her suspiciously.

She laughed. “Don’t look so freaked out dude. I was just thinking, you kinda look like you could use some company, y’know? A little loosening up...” He was watching her passively, seeming almost confused. She leaned over, sidling up against him and wrapping a hand around his tie. His eyes widened as she pulled him in for a kiss, quick and tense. His mouth was warm and soft and pliable. She shifted to straddle him, smiling against his lips, other hand coming to tangle in his hair. Thoughts of Michael flashed through her mind, and disappeared just as quick. She loved him and she always would, but tonight, she was going to love the blue-eyed stranger in the Impala’s passenger seat.

She broke away, breath coming a little faster, and grinned wide at the wrecked expression on the stranger’s face, his hair ruffled and sticking out at odd angles, lips pink and full and parted.

“That would be... very nice, I think,” he said after a few moments.

Deanna insisted on paying for the hotel room. It was cold and musty inside, but the sheets were clean and the carpet mostly unstained. They were flush against each other before the door fully closed, nipping and kissing and tugging at cloth. The bedsheets were soft and scented with the chemical perfume of laundry soap, but all Deanna could focus on was stripping the damp clothes from the stranger’s body, desperate for bare skin and warmth and the slide of flesh against flesh.

The night crept by slowly, feverishly, in the bed and against the wall and in the armchair in the corner of the room. Dawn broke outside and the rain eased up, and sometime while the pale red sunrise leaked through the curtains, the stranger fell asleep, tired and tangled in the blankets, and Deanna pulled the blanket a little higher on his body as she crept out of bed. She ran a hand through his hair, a sad smile creeping into place. She scribbled a note on the pad of paper on the nightstand, letters wild and sharp and the ink smeared in places where the back of her hand rubbed it. _Don’t try to find me, don’t you dare. Leave me in your memory, blue-eyed stranger. I can always be there._

She placed it on the pillow beside him, slipped on her shoes and jacket, and then she was gone.

She never saw him again, but she never forgot the blue of his eyes or the curve of his jaw or the shy smile that so charmed her that Saturday night long ago. She would never forget him, because she saw him every day when Mary Ellen looked up at her, the four-year old’s face full of joy and laughter, eyes sparkling. No, Deanna would never forget her blue-eyed stranger.


End file.
